


Stick Together and Navigate the Storm

by Rynna_Aurelia



Series: Sing, O Muse (Of Heroes Once More) [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Additional Warnings in Author's Notes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Annabeth Chase, BAMF Hazel Levesque, BAMF Percy Jackson, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ensemble Cast, Every Questing Road Trip Possible, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Mentions of Past Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Not Canon Compliant - The Sea of Monsters, Not Canon Compliant - The Trials of Apollo, PTSD, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25190971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynna_Aurelia/pseuds/Rynna_Aurelia
Summary: Kronos has returned. Again.Ever since waking up as his twelve-year-old self, Percy Jackson has thrown himself from one fire into another, taking advantage of the Fates-given second chance to try and set things right.But now, he has to face the results of his efforts: the second Titanomachy back on the horizon, only a few friends who know the truth, and a camp struggling in the aftermath of Kronos's return (And Luke Castellan's sacrifice).All the while, two sides of an impending war are racing to find the Golden Fleece, Hazel Levesque is trying to piece together her own life, and Sally Jackson runs into a fast-talking son of Hephaestus on the run one day. . ."What is it?" Percy demanded.Hazel Levesque grimaced. "Chiron issued the quest for the Golden Fleece this morning. Without you."
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson, Bianca di Angelo & Nico di Angelo & Percy Jackson & Hazel Levesque, Hazel Levesque & Frank Zhang, Percy Jackson & Hazel Levesque, Percy Jackson & Leo Valdez, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Triton, Silena Beauregard & Annabeth Chase & Clarisse La Rue
Series: Sing, O Muse (Of Heroes Once More) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626676
Comments: 184
Kudos: 724





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct sequel to another fic of mine, _Hold Tight and Pretend It's a Plan._ If you plan on reading this and not being very confused on what is happening, I highly recommend first reading that and possibly the one-shot it spawned, _Luke Castellan and the Age of Heroes._
> 
> Happy reading, and hopefully I'll see you back here soon!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not, and will never be, Rick Riordan. Sadly, this means I don't own Percy Jackson.
> 
> Warnings: Self-edited, off-screen character death.

_"Once the storm is over, you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain._ _When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in."_

-Haruki Murakami

* * *

What kind of divergence had happened?

_Questions were a strange, foreign thing to Clotho. The lack of answers was even stranger.  
_

_Her immortal brow furrowed infinitesimally at the sight before her. With nothing new to be Seen,_ _Clotho continued the work she had begun since before the most recent Summer Solstice on Earth._

 _She_ _pulled apart several threads from a single skein of what manifested as yarn, and as her two sisters watched over humanity, she inspected them for the choices of Perseus Jackson._

* * *

Hazel Levesque didn't sleep well in Camp Half-Blood.

Perhaps it was the conversations with Chiron, and the dire warnings he had given her if she let anything slip around another demigod.

Maybe, she often wondered, it came down to the suspicious stares, ones she had seen before from different people. She could certainly predict word for word what was being said in the ominous whispers following her every day.

She was used to it by now. New Orleans, Alaska, Camp Jupiter, Camp Half-Blood—they were all the same in this regard.

But this was different. Most likely—and she tried not to think about this too much—because it was the result of generations of war and spilled blood pressing down on them. It was something ugly and dangerous that spoke to the Greek half-bloods around her as they conferred with each other in turn.

 _Outsider,_ they whispered. _Thief. Conqueror. The enemy.  
_

Hazel did not appreciate it.

* * *

_Lachesis measured out the life of a god, its golden string shimmering and bright._

_It was without end, as was expected. Gods did not simply **die.**  
_

_B_ _ut it was found to be in their best interests to check, once every measured century or so. Gods may not die_ _, but they were occasionally subject to a very final end.  
_

_She looked to a certain area of the godly life, as per her sister's words. After what she had seen concerning Olympus and the Earth Mother. . ._

_It was in their best interests._

_But she only saw a single measured hour. A father watched his green-eyed son on a beach, and let a private smile of relief cross his lips before quietly returning to his realm. The scene was unremarkable and expected in every way._

_After all, Poseidon, second son of Kronos, had never been much for following the intent of the Ancient Laws. N_ _ot where his children were concerned_ — _a trait the Fates had watched him successfully pass on.  
_

 _His latest offspring and the lives tied to him in a thick troublesome knot were all true half-bloods,_ _wild and unpredictable things they were._

* * *

Luke Castellan tried to remember what Thalia looked like.

Remembering how long it had been since Othrys had stilled from the ( _blasted escape_ ) shaking run of— _their names. He knew their names_ — _Perseus_ and his friend was a cause long since lost.

Considering he was hosting the Titan of Time, Luke decided with difficulty as he stood in front of a person— _sister, such a treacherous, useful sister_ —he didn't recognize, one would think he would process the passage of it better. He felt as if he were burning away, battered by the sandstorm that was the mind of a Titan.

Luke fell in and out of it. Sometimes, he barely recalled his own name before everything tilted around him and became _goldenburning **bright,** _and he fancied he could almost predict the passage of the stars. But he still remembered Thalia Grace.

 _(Millennia passed, and immortals would feel it eventually, whether through the passage of favored mortals or the wear on their souls, but not him, **never** him_— _)_

 _(They never spoke her name. Not that it would cross his mind more than once a century or so. Or if anyone knew whether she had faded_ _—)_

Time was _tricky._

 _(_ — _Quite.)_

Sometimes he fought. Or something would bring him back, and Luke would claw for control. The taste of electricity, a familiar fighting style, black hair _(Your descendants will be your undoing, Lord of Time_ — _)._

Her eyes were blue. Luke knew that. Electric blue that cut right through a person, inherited from her father _(Oh_ — _)_ ; they were unforgettable, but that didn't stop them from melting into a familiar gray that almost bled green.

 _ **(Them**_ — ** _)_**

He knew the second one sometimes. Solemn gray that was too old for her seven— _twelve, fourteen, was that really her at sixteen?_ —years, blonde curls beneath a Yankees cap that survived everything— _a cap that survivors of the eruption saw on top of black hair with a bronze sword, but_ _Mt. Saint Helens had never been active in Luke's lifetime_ _—_ alongside its owner, whom Luke had given a knife— _that knife._

It was important. It _mattered._

_It mattered to everything._

_(But why?)_

But what was _everything?_ As they lounged across a throne that Luke had no memory of being built _—rebuilt_ _—_ they did not remember.

_(Your descendants will be your undoing, Lord of Time—)_

* * *

_Atropos gazed down on another thread and severed it. It had belonged to a child of Youth_ _—executed under a Titan's hand for crimes not their own._

 _Death had not been intended. Originally. But now there had been change, if that was even the correct word for something so far-reaching it had broken_ _laws that gods and immortals lacked a sufficient word for._

_And where divergence went, consequences always followed. The Fates always saw this, and it was only now that the eldest of them could see a little more.  
_

_Atropos could see that there was more. Perhaps it would have chilled her, if she could know fear._

_There would not be two parties to begin this familiar war._

_No, she decided._ _There would be three._

* * *

Annabeth Chase downed another cup of black coffee as she practically glared at the incomplete maps in front of them.

No one had returned from the Sea of Monsters alive since Camp Half-Blood had been located elsewhere and their resources suffered for it _—_ live account of a quest she was about to repeat or not. But something else worried her.

"He's not going to like it," she warned darkly. "Not when he's already convinced he's responsible for everything that's happening."

Chiron sighed. "Then he'll have to learn to share duties, if he could do so the last time. He will be needed here, and I couldn't justify otherwise."

Annabeth looked down at the maps in front of her again. She couldn't help but think of how Percy had explained in detail not only the faraway mythical dangers of Cyclopes and a sorceress, but the much closer dangers that would be found in returned murderers and a poisoned tree.

All of it, of course, eventually stopped, thanks to interference from him. He tried to downplay his past heroics when they spoke, but he could never fool her.

 _It's hard to share a job you know how to do by yourself,_ Annabeth never said to Chiron.

* * *

_The Fates observed the soldier._

_She watched the Lord of Time walk by, biting back a sneer at his arrogance. Instead, she saluted him. She did not bother to hide the cold look in her eyes._

_With immortals and. . .others in charge, they were reckless in regards to the human world. Just last month the city of her birth, all the way in the Deep South, had suffered under one of their operations._

_She watched their plans. She ingratiated herself further in the aftermath of Perseus Jackson and Hazel Levesque's escape. She made sure another demigod was executed in her stead for failing to stop it._

_And she waited.  
_

* * *

As he was late for school, Perseus Jackson tried not to think of his nightmares _._

They weren't the usual ones either. _T_ _hese_ nightmares _—_ if they were only that, with things that Percy didn't know _—_ were the ones where he woke up feeling like he was burning from the inside out with cold and had a Titan's whisper in his ears.

It took a very specific nervous look in the kitchen to make all thoughts of Kronos flee his head. He knew that look; he hated it, considering how often it preceded some kind of death.

"What is it?" he demanded.

Hazel Levesque grimaced. "Chiron issued the quest for the Golden Fleece this morning. Without you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Welcome to the sequel of my absolutely mad _Percy Jackson & the Olympians_ rewrite, where canon has been killed in its sleep and I don't know what regrets are. Please keep all appendages within the bus at this time, don't feed the local monsters, and watch attentively for maximum ridiculousness as I gleefully take questions and conspiracy theories.
> 
> Anyway, it's very good to be back, y'all.


	2. The Giant Sea Snake Was Not Percy's Fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not, and will never be, Rick Riordan. Sadly, this means I don't own Percy Jackson.
> 
> Warnings: Unbeta'ed, PTSD symptoms.

_"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages."_

_-Jacques, As You Like It_

* * *

_"Chiron issued the quest for the Golden Fleece this morning. Without you."_

And with this perfectly exhausting news, Percy Jackson was close to snapping for the day.

The disorienting sensation of a Titan's fading thoughts were still crowding out his own. The vividness of the latest nightmares was helping him to think straight either, much less deal with the latest episode of the melodramatic saga of his life.

But Percy was nothing if not practical. Out of this latest time travel-induced storm and the beginnings of a new plan for the day, the first words to bubble out of him were still—

"I'm running late for school."

—mundane. And annoying. And true. And not actually _his_ fault; his last alarm clock was a casualty from the di Angelos' last visit.

But somehow, Percy didn't think "I overslept because I haven't replaced the alarm clock that my cousin destroyed when trying to shoot a harpy who likes mac and cheese with a side of ocean demigod, but she saved both my pasta and my metaphorical bacon, so give me the detention I'll sneak out of anyway," would go over well. And he was already serving enough detention to put him in hot water at _Meriwether Prep,_ hippy school extraordinaire.

Also, well _—_

_(Her eyes were blue. Luke knew that—)_

Percy blinked. There was that. He didn't want to think about that too much in order to keep what was left of his sanity.

Thankfully, Hazel Levesque wasn't particularly fazed by Percy's priorities. "Oh. Well, then, you should go quick and get a taxi. It wouldn't do to be late again this month."

Percy nodded, letting his gaze settle on a streak of ash on the bronze doorknob, left from the harpy attack. He began to mentally re-adjust how he thought this day was going to go, and wondered whether he remembered enough from last time to get a ride from the Grey Sisters.

When the awkward silence creeped in, Hazel added, with the air of someone knowing they were lying to move things along, "You, um, took that well. "

"No, I just have a quiz in pre-algebra in twenty minutes." Percy ran his hands through his hair, his fingers catching on enough painful knots to make the grimace on his face deepen.

He didn't like Chiron's decision. Percy _hated_ it, in fact. Hated it more than the fact that he had to take pre-algebra again.

But he got it. He understood why. As far as the few people who knew what was happening were concerned, Percy was the only one with a complete understanding of just what happened in the _Star Wars_ prequels of their lives. As far as everyone else was concerned, he was twelve, _persona non grata_ in the aftermath of losing Luke, and still shouldn't even be _alive._

 _Di Immortales,_ had Percy not missed justifying his existence over the Great Prophecy.

Anyway, Percy was smart enough to understand that sending the weird suspicious preteen out on a dangerous quest—one that may ultimately decide who would fulfill the Great Prophecy—was, depending on how you were looking at it, nuts. Objectively speaking.

This was why Percy was going to grit his teeth through yet another day of freaking _middle school,_ and _then_ go to camp for an argument with Chiron about the quest. Instead of immediately planning to go off alone to the Sea of Monsters and get it done himself, Percy would be the grown-up he had supposedly matured into the last time, and deal with everything _reasonably._

To say nothing of the fact that Chiron and Hazel may finally find it in themselves to strangle him if he _did_ run away.

"Percy?"

Percy turned around, and the panicked urge to run and _run_ didn't decrease as for the first time that morning, he met Hazel's worried golden gaze. It took all of his discipline not to visibly flinch at the color—the color that was identical, through some twist of the Fates or by plain chance, to the eyes of the Lord of Time.

The doorknob made an ominous noise under Percy's tight grip.

Hazel didn't seem to notice it. But when she spoke, it was heavy and resigned. "Whatever you do, we need you here. Bianca, Nico and I do. I know it's not easy, that we're about to enter the great game here, and it may not be within your ability, but. . .please try and remember that. As best as you can."

_(_ _"I promise on the Styx to protect my cousins as best as I can, Uncle.")_

The doorknob let out another creak, and Percy let out a harsh breath. He _had_ promised. A rash promise made to a god of all people, to keep until. . .well, the final end of his ability.

And Percy hadn't found it yet.

_("Remember your oath, demigod.")_

"I know. Believe me, I know," he said, feeling ready at last. He gave Hazel a wan smile. "Meet up after class, Hazel? If you're okay."

"Of course, Percy. I'm okay today," she reassured him. But Percy didn't miss the fatigue in her eyes, or how her shoulders were drawn as tight as they had been since her first day at Camp Half-Blood, "And. . .you are okay?"

Percy's smile brightened without his permission. Just a little. "I'm okay, Hazel. See you soon."

From there, Percy let himself be swept up in the current of his repeated days.

* * *

The gods-awful reboot of Percy's school days tended to follow a pattern.

One: Wake up.

This was a lot harder than it sounded, thanks to Percy's subconscious earning its PTSD paycheck.

Percy also felt comfortable throwing a lot of blame in Kronos's direction, considering the amount of something. . . _other_ sloshing around between his ears right after he fell out of bed.

And it _was_ sloshing.

At first, he had thought it was just a side-effect of the connection with Kronos; he had figured he was, at minimum, about to spend the next couple years being visited by the night terror fairy. He hadn't counted on it bleeding into his waking hours, or on it being more than nightmarish.

Percy had never known what Rhea had looked like before.

_It was all fractured. With her, he had known calm. Found it in the dark hair she had given their children_ _— **them**_ _—in her eyes, verdant and calm.  
_

_She was gone now.  
_

_And it was all fractured. Everything, all at once, slow and fast and not at all, all what **he** wanted. For eons and eons, no one else had seen.  
_

_He_ _—Percy? He thought so_ — _saw it now_.

 _Like someone had taken a hammer to a giant kaleidoscope and then forced Percy to look through it, everything was spiraling and fractured and **too much,** time pouring into his head_—

Every time Percy woke up, blinking his eyes until his hands looked boring and _human_ and the burning fever broke, it seemed to go more reluctantly. And the memories of Kronos seemed a bit more real in the harsh light of day.

He wondered if there would be consequences for it. Or if it would just kill him.

Second step: Talk in the mornings.

With his mom, about errands and trips to Camp Half-Blood, but also nothing, really. With Hazel, always about her plans for the day, what Percy was going to do at school, to promise each other that they were okay. With Annabeth and Grover, he continued the most uncomfortable ongoing conversation possible about future quests, two wars, and how camp was doing.

They never really talked about each other. _("We would only make matters worse by rushing him_ —" "— _But he may not have time.")_

The actual news tended to come from Hazel, who was kept well-informed by Annabeth to a disturbing degree; with Chiron treating her like she was radioactive most days, Annabeth had taken it upon herself to keep Hazel up to date with "our side of things."

As the seven weeks since escaping Othrys had gone by, this news had not improved. Percy had gotten better at rolling with it.

Part the third: Go to school.

This was Percy's favorite part—and hallelujah, something in Percy's life that only _physically_ tried to turbo-wedgie him twice a week.

And _Di Immortales,_ Percy's favorite part of a school day was the school bit. He needed help.

Percy figured that once he hit high school again things—his grades, mostly—would get a lot less easier and a lot more one-murderous-monster-in-his-geometry-class-to-go-please. But he'd take the benefits of time travel and not being considered a "troubled kid" to keep middle school easy.

And not. Percy still had to serve two weeks of detention for fracturing the wrist of Matt Sloan's human spiritual predecessor in two places. _Surprise,_ he thought, still unimpressed by the whole thing. Trying to jump the traumatized demigod in gym class didn't end well.

There was also Tyson.

_Percy stared at his blurry reflection in the grimy mirror, his eyes burning with hot tears. His hands weren't shaking, but he still felt like he was made of fragile glass, about to blown apart at any second._

_Gods, he hadn't been prepared. He had thought he was, but he wasn't._

_"Hey, you okay, dude?" Wayne from eighth grade ducked in, looking at Percy with just enough uninterested skepticism to hide the empathy in his words.  
_

_Percy had always thought Wayne was okay, as far as his human classmates went._

_"I_ _—Yeah. Right as rain," Percy managed as he began to regulate his breathing in order to calm down. His heart felt like it was about five sizes too big for his chest, and he needed to get off the road to an anxiety attack in public fast.  
_

_Wayne from eighth grade stared at him. ". . .You sure? You took one look at the homeless guy and bolted."_

_Percy shrugged with one shoulder and tried to think. Plan. He needed to observe things and get a plan._

_Tyson was out in the hallway. Probably very confused about why Percy Jackson had taken one look at him and sprinted into the public health hazard that was the middle school bathroom._

_Definitely a bit hurt. Percy_ _needed to go fix it. Tyson deserved a better introduction than that. Percy needed to introduce himself to his half-brother and take him under his wing before any of the local bullies got ideas this time. Maybe tell him about the whole half-brother thing.  
_

_This time. Percy_ _took his first dry breath, the tears receded, and assessed himself.  
_

_He was back at Meriwether Prep, in a dingy little bathroom. He had managed not to cry in front of Wayne from eighth grade on the Monday after a harpy attack.  
_

_Hazel Levesque was lodging at his currently singed home, and the painfully young Bianca and Nico di Angelo were living at camp._

_And now Tyson was back._ _His brother was standing right outside the door._

_Living this again_ _—day-to-day, facing the people he loved through the mundane hours_ _—was all getting to be a bit **much.**_

The last part of Percy's days: He survived them.

* * *

By the time Percy got to school and managed to pass his pre-algebra quiz, he had mostly put the Golden Fleece out of mind for a while. Nothing to be done until he could get to camp, and anyway, in the meantime _—_

"Percy!"

He had other priorities.

"Hey, big guy. How you been?" Percy asked, right before Tyson nearly broke his ribs with a hug. Percy managed to free up his elbows enough to hug him back until Tyson bounced back, giving Percy a guileless smile in the process.

"Good! You? You are okay?" he responded, a solemn look on his face. Percy gave him the usual shrug and smile before shifting the subject to Tyson's weekend, and in their last moments before next period, Tyson enthusiastically told Percy about the kittens who had made their way into his alley recently.

Though, judging by the size of his gesturing, Percy couldn't help but wonder if he had run into long-lost relatives of Small Bob.

Percy listened carefully, laughing in the right places as he also inspected Tyson with a critical eye. He looked about the same as last time, if maybe a bit less haggard. Percy's mom had tried to call social workers again to help him with no better luck _—_ despite Percy's colorful attempts to circumvent the Mist _—_ so they had been forced to settle for giving him a reliable place to sleep when the weather got bad and place to eat.

Percy hadn't quite figured out how to broach the whole My Half-Brother Is A Cyclops And Can He Stay At Camp Until I Bully My Other Half-Brother Into Giving Him A Home _thing_ with Chiron yet. Or Triton, for that matter.

But Percy had also only managed to get in touch with one of them in the past seven weeks, so Percy had to work with what he had.

"They were very pretty, with shiny white hair, and I could feel their purring when I rubbed their ears. I wish they didn't have to be taken away," Tyson finished his story with slumping shoulders, looking down at his hands with a frown. "They were not hurting anyone."

"I'm sure they were taken to good homes, Tyson," Percy reassured him, nudging him on the shoulder. "They're probably being spoiled rotten right now."

"Are you sure, brother?"

"Positive," Percy promised, before sending up a small prayer to Artemis, asking that if they were actually harmless and didn't want to eat anyone's face, to keep them safe for Tyson.

The bell then rang, signaling it was time for Percy and Tyson to go to class, and Percy's sense of joy to go to the abyss.

"Oh, English time. Fun," Percy grumbled. _"Lord of the Flies_ and teaching so-called troubled kids that given half a chance they'll default to being violent jerks. Love it."

He did remember _some_ things this time around. And Rachel had been extremely unimpressed by _Lord of the Flies._

_("Oh my god! Did you see that kid? It's about time you got here. He tried to kill me!")_

"But then you have detention, and I can keep you company!" Tyson exclaimed, looking for more excited than anyone should be about detention. "You can tell me more about Daddy and Atlantis, and you will not be bored."

"That's, uh, not how it. . .works. . ." Percy trailed off, unsure of why he was fighting this. It wasn't like anyone was going to tell the six-foot tall, middle school-age Cyclops he couldn't sit in detention anyway. "Fine. I'd love to have someone to keep me from going bananas for an hour anyway."

In the end, his school days tended to follow a pattern. And when his gods-damned immortal half-brother arrived to kidnap him out of detention to go fight a giant sea snake that day, Percy was more annoyed than he normally would have been.

* * *

"Your presence is required at a nearby ship harbor to fight a monster."

"Normal people call them piers. Or say _hi._ Hello, Baywatch," Percy said with an exasperated sigh, crossing his arms and leaning his chair back to stare up at a blank-faced Triton, "How are you? How's Dad? Did you get beat in a fight recently, and if so, can I have video?"

"Good afternoon, Perseus, illegitimate brother of mine. Can we go now?" Triton, to his minute credit, had walked into Meriweather Prep wearing somewhat normal sailor's clothes, along with his usual look of contemplation over whether he could punt Percy into a deep sea trench. Coach Nunley didn't even look up when Triton walked in, at least.

Then again, considering how the Mist worked, everyone except Tyson might think Percy was talking to thin air right now.

Being kicked out of school because everyone thought he was talking to hallucinations would be a new one.

"Go fight a monster? I do have a _life,_ dude," Percy blatantly lied, "If it's a sea monster, can't you just. . .do your thing?"

He waved his hands around to indicate Triton being a sea god. At this, Triton scowled even as his neck reddened, and for a moment, Percy thought he was just going to teleport them out of there.

But as if it physically pained Triton to say, he admitted quietly, "This sea snake can only be killed by a demigod, and you are the only one here who wouldn't be drowned before defeating it. I. . .cannot do it alone."

Percy groaned. _Of course._ This was what he got for hoping to escape detention sooner rather than later. But before he launched into a full whinging session, he looked over at Tyson, who seemed to constructing a functional train model out of metal scraps, and he had an idea.

As he looked over, he spotted one girl a couple rows down from him staring at him and Triton, her eyes switching back and forth between the two like a tennis match, and Percy spared a moment of relief that however the Mist was processing this, it didn't look like he had _completely_ lost it.

Percy grinned. This would be fun.

"One condition. Well, technically, it's one and a half. But Tyson comes with us—"

"Who?"

"—Our brother. He's right there. Good kid, nice, likes cats and working with his hands. Didn't inherit your ego, thank Olympus."

 _"Perseus_ —"

"—And afterward, you take him with you back to Atlantis and make sure he has a place with the rest of the Cyclopes in the forges."

This one stopped Triton dead. "You can tell? And you. . .acknowledge him, regardless?"

"Yeah, 'course," Percy replied, feeling offended on Tyson's behalf, "He's a Cyclops, he's a great guy, and he's our brother. It's not hard, and if you think otherwise. . .we're gonna have problems. _Brother._ "

"Whatever else you may think of me, I am not your demigod brethren," Triton shot back, looking equally offended. Percy felt a surge of something dangerously close to _fond_ —until Triton added, with an air of someone badly wronged, "I do sometimes wish you were more boring. But I will do as you ask."

"I knew you were my second favorite brother for a reason," Percy said sunnily, as he packed his stuff up, making sure his battle supplies were still beneath his school supplies in his bag.

"Thank Chaos I cleared that _horrifyingly_ low bar."

* * *

If the bar was in Tartarus, then Triton had just cleared the Fields of Asphodel.

At the end of the pier, a sea serpent so big it wasn't freaking _fair_ roared, and spit venom that ate away at the wood of the pier. Percy was trying to make senior citizens run for their lives, Tyson was fending off the snake with a telephone pole, and Triton mostly. . .

. . . .to be honest, Percy wasn't sure what he was doing other than being useless. But no one had been seriously injured yet, the cops hadn't showed up somehow, and Percy was feeling charitable, so he put that down to Triton working his god mojo.

Now, Percy groused to himself, if only Triton was the god of encouraging sweet old ladies to _leave_ a pier with a recent infestation of forty-foot sea serpent.

"Oh, hello there, darling. Sorry, I didn't see you there! How are you?"

An older woman with white hair, eyes the color of dead grey slate, and a faint twang to her voice wasn't screaming and running away with everyone else, and a part of Percy reflexively went, _Please not another goddess, please not another goddess, please not another goddess. . ._

"Ah, yeah, ma'am—hi. Sorry, I need you to move away from the pier. Now would be nice, ma'am—" Better safe than sorry, just in case. Percy didn't feel like being turned into a chinchilla for being rude.

"Beretta, dear. I won't stand for formalities."

"Sorry, ma'am. Beretta. I need you to leave the area before you get—"

"Oh, but I would lose such a great view!" she exclaimed. Sunlight glinted off of the dark violet pendant laying on top of her cardigan. On it, noticed by the part of Percy given to having the attention span of a squirrel, was a solid golden triangle inscribed with a _lambda_. "The sunset will be beautiful, and the entertainment on this pier is unmatched, I've found—"

"Great," Percy bit out; there was another roar from the serpent and more screaming, followed by the sound of a loud crash. Percy looked up, trying to track where the serpent had slunk to when he wasn't looking. "Glad you're enjoying it. But _move,_ I don't want you hurt."

"Oh, dear. Your concern is sweet."

The serpent rose from the water again, all glistening emerald scales and big ivory fangs, and it let out an ear-splitting roar that made Percy grimace and clap his hands over his ears. Tyson—mercifully not yet injured—started beating it with the pole, trying to swing for the large bleeding gash Percy had carved on the serpent's chest earlier.

When the serpent tried to swallow a petrified pair of tourists, Tyson hit its head with a wet _smack_ of wood on flesh and yelled, "No! Bad snake! Leave people alone!"

The giant snake took a bite out of the pier right next to Tyson in response. Percy decided to take drastic measures. He sheathed Riptide and dived into the murky water, right as Beretta hollered after him, "It was lovely meeting you, Percy Jackson!"

In retrospect, the nightmares of Kronos and learning he wasn't going to be on the official quest for the Golden Fleece really _had_ been the highlight of Percy's day.

Once in the water, it took a second for bubbles to dissipate enough for Percy to see—just in time for him to dart down to miss a wild swing of the serpent's tail. But before the serpent was out of reach, Percy grabbed onto the tip of its crimson tail and held on for dear life. The serpent bucked and thrashed, and Percy couldn't see anything through the foam.

But after tackling Nereus as a seal in San Francisco Bay, a serpent with scales that gave Percy actual purchase for climbing was a piece of cake. _("Heroes! Why do you always pick on me?")_

Slowly, and with a lot of almost having his skull split in two by the serpent trying to throw him against the metal pier bars, Percy scrabbled his way up, the water lending him extra strength in the process, until he was hanging from the neck of the serpent as it swam around the pier, diving in and out of the water.

Percy went to uncap Riptide when Tyson nearly knocked him off with the telephone pole.

"Tyson—!" Percy screamed. The serpent dove back under water before Tyson gave Percy a concussion. He came up again, and Tyson managed to hit the gash Percy had inflicted earlier, nearly taking Percy off in the process.

"Don't hit me!"

Percy inhaled a couple gallons of polluted water before coming back up again this time, the serpent hissing and shaking its head desperately, spitting venom in all directions while Percy hanged off him with an uncapped Riptide like an insane bloodthirsty limpet.

"Sorry, brother!" Tyson yelled, and Percy managed to give him a thumbs-up before being taken underwater by the gargantuan sea snake again. It dove all the way down to the bay bed this time, and began to drag Percy along it. Percy managed to keep the sand out of his eyes and mouth through sheer force of will, but couldn't do much about being dragged along the rocks.

If he survived this, Percy thought as he kicked the snake, Triton owed him the biggest favor _ever._

They were about to hit the Hudson when Percy managed to get a good angle beyond "hanging on for dear life". He crawled up until he was sitting on the snake's head, and as they broke the river surface for the first time, he started swinging until he stabbed the snake in the eyeball.

It burst into yellow dust with an ear-bloodying wail, and before the local river spirits could get offended, Percy used his power to send him back to the pier he had started at, where Triton and Tyson were now the only two people left.

Much to Percy's—he wasn't sure, actually— _something,_ Triton closed his eyes with a small smile to see him climb out of the water in one piece. Right before he could say a thing, though, Tyson tackled Percy into a hug for the second time that day, and Percy was suddenly grateful that all his bruises had healed in the water as he felt his ribs crack.

But when Tyson pulled back, his eyes were watery. Percy felt his heart clench.

He had been told.

It was for the best. Percy couldn't look after him all the time in New York, and he would be happier in Atlantis.

"Big brother Triton told me," Tyson said, sniffling, while Triton choked at his description, his green eyes going wide, "That—that you have found a place for me, in Daddy's palace, with other Cyclopes."

Percy nodded. "You'll be happy there, big guy. Promise. You'll learn how to work in the forge or. . .whatever else you want, and Dad can look after you. Better than the streets."

"But you won't be there," Tyson answered mournfully, and Percy was thankful that Triton had decided to wander out of earshot to the bay, watching the calming waters. "Do you think the other Cyclopes will even like me?"

"Of course they will," Percy said confidently, truly believing in it. Last time, Tyson had told him that the Cyclopes in Atlantis had been much different from the ones in New York. But just in case, he added, "You know where to find me. I can invite you into camp, and you know where I live. You're always welcome there, Tyson. But. . .I don't want you out there in the streets alone."

Tyson nodded slowly, then burst into tears. Percy just hugged Tyson best he could until he felt ready to go.

Taking shuddering breaths as he tried to pull himself together, Tyson asked quietly, "Will you be able to visit me?"

 _Oomph, loaded question._ Percy tried to picture how he'd be received in Atlantis as things were, and promptly winced inside. "Maybe. I can try. But you're always welcome here."

Tyson nodded again, and took a deep breath, then another, as the tears no longer came. He studied his shoes for a minute before looking at Percy, some sliver of stubborn bravery now in his eyes. It killed Percy to think that he had put it there.

"I think I am ready," Tyson decided, "Thank you for everything, brother. I will call you on a rainbow message, I think, when I am there."

"I'll be waiting."

They walked out to where Triton was standing, arms crossed, and a hippocampus in the water behind him. Percy smiled to himself, thinking of Rainbow.

"Ready at last?" he drawled.

"As we'll ever be. And thanks for the help, by the way," Percy snarked in Triton's direction, deciding it was never too late to give Triton shit.

"There are no casualties, and the mortals will not remember this. I could not do anything, Percy," Triton said with no small amount of exasperation. "Someone, likely the Fates, decreed otherwise."

Percy made a rude noise at the mention of the Fates, but didn't say anything while Tyson, who was nervously fiddling with what little was left of the telephone pole in his hands, announced, "I am ready, big brother Triton."

Percy reminded himself not to laugh as a rather horrified look crossed Triton's face at being called "big brother" by a sincere Cyclops again.

". . .Good," Triton said after a moment. "Wonderful. This is a hippocampus who will guide you to Atlantis. I have already messaged the head of the forges, and he will look after you as you adjust and are trained."

Tyson gave a small, but no less genuine smile at this, and eagerly approached the hippocampus; Percy's resolve to not laugh broke when Tyson named the hippocampus Diamond, and Triton tried and failed to explain how a hippocampus was actually named, and that Cyclopes didn't normally befriend hippocampuses.

He managed to not say anything until after Tyson left, when he reverted the bluster Percy remembered so well from the rest of their relationship.

He hadn't missed it.

"I am the crown prince of Atlantis," Triton muttered under his breath, "I am a god, who does not do favors for bastard half-brothers, and I _certainly_ do not explain the finer points of riding a hippocampus to someone who calls me 'big brother Triton'—not a _word_ if you want to live, Perseus."

"I wasn't going to say anything!" Percy said with the innocence in the world, holding up his hands, "I'm just. . .surprised you let it go, considering you lecture me about 'disrespecting the heritage' every time we run into each other."

Triton tilted his head. "It felt. . .unnecessary. He means well."

"He does well, if you ask me," Percy said, "He was a great blacksmith last time. He'll be great again. I know it."

"You knew each other well? The last time?"

"We went on a couple quests together, and he lived in camp with me for a while. Made me a shield that saved my life a couple times," Percy reminisced. "Best brother I could've asked for, especially considering, well. . .Mom didn't have kids again before the world ended, and my godly side of the family wasn't love and hugs. I think you wanted to kill me last time."

"I wanted to kill you this time," Triton said dryly, "When we first met, I almost threw you into Tartarus on sight to save us all the trouble. Whatever it was that returned you to your younger self using the Lord of Time's power was incredibly unsubtle, and I was. . .rather angry. But I do seem to be stuck with you now."

Percy felt something in his stomach drop at the mention of Tartarus, and Triton's voice was replaced by static in his ears.

He knew it had been close. Triton had made it _very_ clear how he felt about demigod siblings, and Percy had _known_ how fast he'd had to talk to get Triton to calm down at the time. It had been close, he had _known_ it was close, but gods, if he had been _that_ close. . .

Annabeth's screams echoed in his ears, and Percy suddenly didn't want to be in this conversation with Triton anymore.

"Yeah. Don't do that again, please," Percy said coldly. Whatever warmth had seeped into their conversation evaporated. "Was there anything you wanted to discuss? Or can I go to camp. I need to see Chiron."

Triton looked at him strangely. Percy didn't blame him. A lot, anyway.

He wasn't ready. He could talk his way through a lot of memories, especially for the sake of his friends, but _that. . ._ Tartarus wouldn't end well for anyone. There was nothing there but a greedy black hole of pain.

He needed time, and his immortal half-siblings to not mention how they had been ready to _throw him_ into Hades-loving _Tartarus,_ for gods' sakes.

"Well, no," Triton said slowly, "Unless there was something usual from the battle. Serpents do not usually come this far north this late in the year, much less this disoriented or willing to attack mortals—or one this unusual in how it was cursed to die at a demigod's hands. And you seemed rather engaged with a stubborn old woman before diving into the water."

It had all been a blur at the time, with Percy more concerned with things like not dying or being bitten by a giant honkin' sea snake.

_("Beretta, dear. I won't stand for formalities.")_

But something had been strange about someone who had definitely been mostly human, at least.

_("Oh, dear. Your concern is sweet.")_

"With Grandfather returned, we must consider all possibilities of something worse at work here," Triton added when Percy didn't immediately answer. "Is there anything you recall?"

_("It was lovely meeting you, Percy Jackson!")_

"Yeah," Percy said slowly, "Just something weird."

"Weird," Triton repeated.

". . .Yeah," Percy breathed as he wracked his brain for a way to make it make _sense_ in a non-world ending way.

"Do you wish to elaborate, or shall I be forced to hypothesize whatever strange detail your little mortal brain has seized upon in the heat of battle?" Triton drawled.

 _"You_ wanted my little brain on this, dude," Percy snapped back, but it lacked any real heat, lost as he was in his thoughts. "No, it's just the old lady. Beretta."

"What about her? Do you believe you met an immortal of some kind?"

"No. No, I think she's mortal. Pretty sure, anyway, I kinda know the look by now if she was a goddess or a monsters or something. Maybe clear-sighted, or a demigod or something, because I'm _pretty sure_ she could see the snake,, which is fine. It's just. . ." Percy trailed off.

"What, little brother. Meaningful silences, sentence fragments, and monosyllable answers are not an effective way to communicate. And being clear-sighted is not a crime."

Percy rolled his eyes at Triton, but it was half-hearted at best. He was more preoccupied with the fact that he was very sure he had never met her in _either_ of his lives.

"She called me Percy Jackson," he told Triton, "But I never told her my name."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I, uh, had COVID-19. Yeah. Did everything right, but can't really control what your roommate does, eh? 
> 
> Anyway, I'm considered fully recovered now, and the fatigue has stopped kicking my ass. I'm currently barricaded in my parents' basement and not coming out until 2022, but with college classes done for now, my health on the upswing, and a new laptop, this means writing! Updates! Excitement?
> 
> In more fun news, prepare yourselves for rotating POV. Hazel, Annabeth, and Percy will be our worthy narrators, but in the name of managing a sprawling plot, we're spending some time with some favorites of mine and their own quests.
> 
> And last but certainly not least: Which lunatic took this over three thousand kudos when I wasn't looking, because I love you.


End file.
